


Red Hair and Biting Cold

by HockeyShit



Series: Hairpin [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: M/M, but the end gets stupid fluffy for no reason, i mean the whole thing is pretty sweet, unnecessary fluff at the end
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 09:23:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,450
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18163370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HockeyShit/pseuds/HockeyShit
Summary: “Usually you southerners scream and try t’ run.”Jon wakes up to a knife against his throat, he decides to run and wishes he grabbed his boots before he took off.





	Red Hair and Biting Cold

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, this is my first ever Game of Thrones fan fiction, i'm not sure if anyone still ships this but I love the pairing to death so.....expect more probably. If Y'all like this there is an epilogue written, and I can post it, but I don't know if anyone is interested.

     Jon wasn’t sure what woke up him, but it didn’t take him long to figure out why he was awake. Panic set in as he felt the knife at his throat push harder against his windpipe, he almost screamed but something wasn’t right. The knife on his throat had a blunt edge, he could hear Ghost sleeping by the hearth. When his eyes adjusted to the moonlight, he felt his stomach sink, surely not, surely he hadn’t turned on Jon, not after all they had been through. 

     “Usually you southerners scream and try t’ run.”  

     It was then that Jon recognized a softness in Tormund’s eyes, a softness that had Jon almost relaxing back into his bed. 

     “What are you doing?” Jon wasn’t sure how he had gotten into the castle, the guards knew him well enough, but Jon had a feeling Tormund didn’t walk through the gate. 

     “Stealing ya’.” Tormund’s smile grew wider beneath his beard, Jon couldn’t help but smile. “Do ya’ wanna run?”

     Laughter bubbled up from Jon’s chest but he dutifully wiggled out from under Tormund, he thought about putting on his boots but left them behind. The stone floors were freezing under his feet, but he’d been colder. He couldn’t help but giggle as Tormund followed him. Jon knew Tormund was fast enough to catch him, but he was letting the chase happen, letting Jon run through the castle. 

     Jon knew he should probably stop his giggling, they rang off the empty stone walls; they hadn’t had time to put up new tapestries so there wasn’t anything to catch the sound. Jon hoped no one woke up, but he couldn't contain the happiness he felt, the giddiness at trying to stay just out of Tormund’s reach. 

     Jon realized too late that he made a wrong turn and suddenly his back was against a door, the only way forward was the leave the warmth of the hallway. He pushed his back against the wall and looked up into Tormund’s eyes for the first time since he had left his bed. The full moon light up Tormund’s eyes, they had the same softness in them that had been there when Jon woke up, even if the rest of Tormund’s face was smirking. 

     “Nowhere t’ go little Crow?” Tormund asked. Jon felt himself blush as Tormund crowded him against the door. It wasn’t the first time Tormund had done this, boxed Jon in against a wall. But there was something about Tormund being dressed for the weather and Jon in his smallclothes that made this instance much more intimate. 

     Jon had to crane his neck up to look into Tormund’s eyes, he wanted to push closer to the older man, but he still had a part to play. He reached behind himself and took a deep breath before opening the door and stepping back out into the cold on to the inner wall of the castle. Tormund made a surprised noise but followed after Jon. Tormund ended the chase before Jon could get very far, wrapping his arms around Jon from behind. 

“Not so fast in the cold are ya’?” Tormund wrapped a cloak around Jon’s shoulders before picking Jon up and throwing him over his shoulder. Jon could feel himself blushing, he was sure that looking out for the comfort of the one being stolen wasn’t a free folk custom. Regardless he was grateful for the cloak. 

     “How d'you get in the castle?” Jon asked when they walked past the first set of stairs down to the courtyard, giving Jon more reason to believe that Tormund hadn’t walked through the gate. 

     “Ya’ think these walls mean anything? I’ve been up and down ya’ crow’s wall.” Jon struggled against Tormund’s grip, suddenly terrified of how easy it was for Tormund to come over the castle walls. Tormund tightened his grip but Jon wasn’t playing this time, he took Tormund by surprised and slipped out of the wildling’s grip and fell to his ass. 

     “And the guards didn’t see you?” Jon hadn’t been scared not since he realized Tormund meant him no harm but now, there was something worrying about Tormund being able to sneak into the castle so easily, the same way Theon had done. “No one stopped you?” Jon knew the fear was seeping into his voice. 

     “I’m sneakier than any o’ you southerners could be,” Tormund said holding his hands out to help Jon up. “And I brought the guard some o’ that grape piss ya’ like.” Jon closed his eyes and pulled himself up with Tormund’s offered hands before hugging him. 

     “Don’t ever scare me like that again.” Tormund didn’t say anything, just held Jon close until Jon jumped up to wrap his legs around Tormund’s waist. 

     “Maybe the pretty crow does want to be stolen.” Tormund teased but he carried Jon the three yards to where grapple hook was stuck over the wall. “You go down first, I’ll catch ya’ if ya’ try t’ run.” Tormund helped Jon over the wall. There was some truth to what Tormund had said, after scaling The Wall, the 100 feet of Winterfell hardly seemed far. Still, Jon wished he had boots on, and that he wasn’t shivering as he made his descent. He hoping from one foot to the next trying to keep his feet from freezing. As soon as Tormund was down the wall he picked Jon back up and started off towards the Free Folk’s camp. Jon pushed himself as close to Tormund as he could, trying to soak up as much warmth as he could. 

     “Don’ make me drop ya’.” Tormund teased letting Jon slip down just a hair. 

     “I’m freezing,” Jon complained which got Tormund to laugh. 

     “Ya’ don’ know true cold little crow, ya’ don’ know what it means t’ be cold.” but still Tormund held Jon closer, started walking a bit faster towards his tent. 

     Jon wasn’t sure how warm Tormund’s tent actually was, but it came as a relief when Tormund shouldered his way through the tent flap and dropped Jon on the pile of furs near the fire. Jon immediately pulled the top layer around his shoulders and pushed his feet under himself trying to get warm. 

     “I know a faster way t’ warm ya’ up.” Tormund was standing nearer the door of the tent, taking off his outer layers. Jon smiled at the way Tormund’s eyes kept their softness, even when the man was trying to look intimidating, he snuggled down into the furs letting Tormund take his time. 

     “And what’s that?” Jon wished Tormund would hurry up, but that wasn’t what tonight was about, he’d always wondered if Tormund would steal him, or even mention it. He wasn’t sure what the Free Folk customs were when it came to two men sleeping together, not that he was any sure-er of the customs for two men south of the wall either. 

     “I’m gonna get ya’ undressed, and suck yer cock till ya’ can’t keep quiet, then I’m gonna fuck ya’ till everyone knows I stole ya’.”Jon blushed, it had been almost a year, but still, he hadn’t grown used to Tormund’s bluntness. He hadn’t gotten used to it with Ygritte either. The thought of Ygritte made him sad, he didn’t want to ruin tonight with thoughts of her. When he looked back up at Tormund though it was like he knew what Jon was thinking. He didn’t say anything, instead pushed Jon back against the furs and kissed him.

* * *

     Tormund made good on all his promises. Jon had to shove his hand in his mouth, not wanting to call out too loud. Tormund hadn’t let him though, so Jon tried to push his face into the furs below him as well as possible, it hadn’t helped though, he still needed to breathe. 

     Now though, now Jon was curled up next to Tormund while the bigger man ran a hand through Jon’s hair. They both knew Jon would have to go back to the castle before the night ended. He figured he’d have to steal some of Tormund’s clothes, no matter how ridiculous they would look on him, he wasn’t going to walk back half naked. Jon didn’t have to leave yet, instead, he ran a hand over Tormund’s chest. 

     Tormund was hairy all over, but still, there were places where scar tissue won out, In a place above his heart Tormund had a scar, it must not have been very deep when the cut was made, but it was wide, it took nearly half of Jon’s hand to cover it. 

     “My wife, the night I stole her.” Jon nodded tracing the scar, he couldn’t help but wonder how badly he’d play his role, surely being stolen wasn’t supposed to make you giggle, no matter how badly you wanted it. “Never saw someone run through the snow without boots,” Tormund said there was a sort of pride in his voice that made Jon blush.  “Maybe you do have a bit ‘o the North in ya’” Tormund teased. 

Jon didn’t say anything to that, he was tired, he wanted nothing more than to sleep here, warm and pressed against Tormund’s skin. He wondered what that would be like waking up to Tormund’s chest under his head rather than a head of red hair on his own chest. He wished he could find out, that they could share a bed, for just one night. 

     “What was it like? The night ya’ stole Ygritte?” Tormund asked gently tugging on Jon’s hair to get him to look up. 

     “I- I didn’t steal her.” Jon wondered how Tormund knew, what gave it away. He didn’t like thinking about her, thinking about watching her die before she could kill him. 

     “She would have liked that,” Tormund whispered, Jon shook his head, he didn’t want to talk about her, not tonight, he pushed his face into Tormund’s neck to get his point across. Tormund sighed but didn’t push. She was Tormund’s friend Jon knew that they might be the only ones alive that still remembered her. Jon knew they should talk about her, to keep her alive but not tonight. 

     They stayed quiet so long Jon thought Tormund might have fallen asleep; Jon shuffled around, tried to get out from under Tormund’s arm without waking him up. 

     “Ya’ leavin’ already?” Tormund asked, his voice was rough with sleep, and Jon longed to lay back down, to let himself fall back asleep.  

     “I need to go, I-” 

     “I know.” Tormund sat up and stretched before he got out from under the furs. “Stay here, I’ve got something for you.” Jon watched as Tormund pulled out a pair of boots, trousers, and a tunic, set them on top of the cloak he’d brought for Jon, but then he walked to the back corner of his tent, where a small box sat. Jon knew none of the free folk had many possessions. They didn’t have much when they lived north of the wall, Tormund hadn’t brought much when he came over the wall, and the others, they didn’t have time to pack their stuff. When Tormund came back to the pile of furs, he sat beside Jon on top of them, not bothered at all by the cold. 

     “I know yer a lad. But-” Tormund held out a small bone hairpin. It wasn’t ornate, not other than a small flower carved into the end. It looked worn as if it had been used by someone before. “It was my mothers, an’ I gave it to my wife but then she- I thought I might give it t’ one o’ my daughters, I didn’t think I would ever-” Tormund smiled down at Jon. “ya’ don’t have t’ wear it, but I’d like if ya’ had it.” 

     Jon picked up the hairpin and ran a finger over the smooth bone. “It’s wolf’s bone, my dad said it was a direwolf but no one ever saw him kill no direwolf. But it’s wolf bone for sure. Just like you.” 

     Jon closed his fist on the hairpin and closed his eyes. When he opened them to look up at Tormund he knew he was crying. He’d have been embarrassed if Tormund hadn’t seen him cry what felt like a thousand times before. At Hardholm, after he had been brought back, after Rickon’s death, the near disaster battle that followed. Maybe he should have been embarrassed, this wasn’t like those times. But then Tormund’s hand came to cup Jon’s cheek and Tormund kissed him softly. 

     “I thought I was a crow,” it came out shakier than Jon had wanted but it got a laugh out of Tormund. 

     “Ya’ are, but ya’ wear all those clothes with wolves on them, it’s easy ta’ see yer a wolf too.” Jon leaned forward into Tormund’s chest and laughed. 

     “I have to marry a woman, eventually I need to have children I-” 

     “Ya’ can have my children.” 

     “I need sons Tormund,” Jon whispered he tightened his grip on the hair clip. “I-” 

     “Ya don’ need sons now. Yer mine Jon, right now yer mine.” Jon nodded. That would have to be good enough. He can be Tormund’s for now, there was so much ahead of them that it didn’t matter past right now. 

     “I need to go.” Tormund didn’t say anything this time, he helped Jon into the clothes he had laid out, Jon’s own clothes, he wasn’t sure how Tormund had gotten them. And gave him one last kiss before Jon walked out of the tent. 

     Jon took a deep breath as he walked toward the gate, he worried about what the guard would ask him before he realized he wouldn’t be questioned at all. He wasn’t the bastard son of the Lord of Winterfell any longer. He was the King of the North, he could go in and out of his castle as he pleased. 

     When Jon got back to his chambers Ghost lifted his head and blinked before putting his head back down and watching Jon get ready to go back to sleep. 

     “You should have done something you know. What good is having a direwolf if he lets wildlings into my room to steal me in the middle of the night?” Ghost just blinked at Jon. “I love him Ghost.” but the wolf had gone back to sleep. Jon sighed to himself and put the hair clip on the small table next to his bed. He didn’t want to keep it out, but he didn’t have anywhere else to put it at the moment. When Jon got comfortable in his bed he closed his eyes and dreamt of red hair and biting cold. 


End file.
